


Hellish Rebuke

by oponn



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Drowning, F/M, Hell, Horror, Masturbation, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post Season 2, Sexual Fantasy, tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-15 00:20:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21244406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oponn/pseuds/oponn
Summary: Every teenage girl makes wishes in the bath. Most teenage girls imagine their boyfriends in the bath.It's the half-witch ones that need to be more careful.__Post SSN2





	Hellish Rebuke

Some days, she was weak. 

Sabrina’s fingers trailed absently over the jagged rows of used candles, the wilted wicks standing tall as flame erupted on them in her wake. She inhaled heavily through her nose as she moved about the room - she placed a stack of fluffy towels beside the slowly filling tub, ran a brush through her hair and inspected her pallid, tear-stained face. 

The house was unusually silent on this Sunday afternoon, as the weather was prime for witching activity. The afternoon was dark and dreary and spoke of a similar week of cold, wet rain. Even now, as Sabrina stood in her bathroom in nothing more than a silk robe, the downpour pounded on the sloped roof. Streams sluiced down the single pane windows and obscured the outside world from curious eyes. 

Zelda had been out with her fledgling Church trying to establish a new prayer rote in deference to Lilith in the New Church of Night and should return soon. Helga had whispered conspiratorially about needing daylight darkness to harvest a certain mushroom and shortly before noon had donned yellow galoshes and a mint raincoat before leaving out the kitchen door with a basket. Ambrose was wherever Ambrose was and had been for at least a month now. 

Her mortal friends were distant – recovering, most likely, from the shock. Harvey and Roz now had each other to turn to, which caused an ache in a distant part of her heart that Sabrina refused to entertain. Theo had called daily but didn’t have much to report on that they hadn’t already discussed. 

She twisted her fingers in the mirror as she spied the tub was full and the faucet spin itself closed. The water was milky white and smelled of a warm vanilla and hissed invitingly in the silence following the faucet turning off. 

She looked herself in the eyes, hooded and sad. Eyes that had poured over countless books for endless hours upon hours in the last month – by daylight, candlelight, kitchen light. She’d researched and hypothesized and capitulated and postulated every angle she could think of. How to get into Hell, how to get Nick back. She’d even debated praying to Lilith but dismissed the idea immediately. 

There was _ always _ a way. It’s _ magic _ after all. 

Her wan expression changed into one of scrutiny as she studied herself. Pale face, lips drawn together, dark eyes. Her hair was rumpled on one side from reading while laying down for so long. The robe was a gift, flowed like silk and felt whisper soft on her skin. It tied together at her navel, allowing a deep slice of her chest to be bare. She shrugged a corner of it off and put her hand on her hip, jutting the joint of her shoulder out and cutting shadows across her collarbones as she pouted at herself in the mirror. 

“Oh, beautiful darling,” She muttered to herself in a terrible accent. A faint fog had started at the bottom of the mirror and was slowly creeping upwards as she ran her fingers down the silk material between her breasts. She tilted her head, eyes studying how her fingers moved. Her thoughts turned to Nick and how he’d sacrificed his body as a vessel. A body she’d never got to experience with hers. A longing almost like an anger burned somewhere deep in her heart and she wanted him back. To sacrifice her body to him in the most carnal of ways that she now knew she wanted, for them to bathe in pleasure and appease the flames of attraction that burned like a brushfire. 

She shrugged the other shoulder and the material fell to her bent elbows, exposing her thin arms and small breasts. She attempted her best coy smile and pushed them forwards, her nipples budded tightly in the cool air. Her hands passed over them, pressing them together to form sumptuous cleavage before letting them fall free and her fingertips to trace over the exposed skin. 

“Can you see me in Hell, Nicholas Scratch?” She whispered at the mirror and raised one hand, pressing it flat against the cold surface like it was a scry mirror. She stared deeply into her own eyes, as if they would darken and hood themselves and her face would shift into his to smirk and appraise her. As if she were Nostradamus and could pull forth any visions she wished at will – as if she could pull him forth from the confines of Hell and wrap him in protection. She would kiss him until they were both drunk with it and his hands were sharp and desperate where they gripped her thighs or yarded on her hips. She would torture him until his fingers tangled in the hair at the base of her skull, his hips flexing and rocking against hers as their fused mouths fought for dominance. 

She almost sighed as she imagined his fine white teeth at her throat, her breast disappearing into a needy hand that would encompass it completely. She’d be able to smell the arousal and magic coursing off his skin and at this thought Sabrina sighed aloud and found herself opening eyes she was unaware she’d closed. 

When she glanced at herself again, her cheeks were pinked and she huffed a shaky breath and untied the robe, dropping it to the floor. The rain tapped a frantic staccato above her head, seeming to swell in noise and ferocity as she gripped the sides of the tub and slid into her bath with a sigh. 

The water was hot and relaxing and soothed bones in her body that felt as if they’d been left outside overnight in the frigid cold. Stiffness and soreness that hadn’t abated from hours of reading and researching, note taking and spellcasting. It clogged a hole through which it felt like all of her energy and will to live was slowly draining and she closed her eyes as the corner of her mouth hitched up in a wry smile. 

“Mmmm, can you see me now, Nicholas Scratch?” She asked out loud as she ran her hands over her hips and thighs under the water, kneading sore muscles and rubbing away temperature goosebumps that raised on her skin. The question was playful and rife with suggestion as her fingers slipped down past her knees and she sat upright in the tub as she ran them back up, caressing her neck and splaying on her jaw. She screwed her eyes shut and pictured him sitting across from her in the tub, milky suds sliding along his pectorals and his olive skin shining with promises. He’d smile at her as she snaked her legs over the tops of his thighs and she bit her lip as she imagined him grabbing and massaging her tiny feet as they tickled his hips. 

“I see you, Spellman,” He’d declare as he’d lift her foot out of the water and swipe the water that ran along her calf muscle. Then he’d continue his quest up her leg, grasping her hips and pulling her closer to him along the bottom of the tub. Sabrina giggled to herself, leg thrown over the side of the tub to drip onto the floor as she coasted in her fantasy. 

The gauzy curtains hanging in one of the windows moved slightly and the flames on the candles throughout the room bent briefly as Sabrina trailed a hand down her belly and between her legs. She imagined him looking deeply at her, his eyes smoldering and dark like coals and his mouth slightly open as he’d touch her in her most intimate place. He’d lean forward and keep his mouth a breath from hers and she slid her fingers through the folds of herself under the water, imagining they were his. He’d taunt her with a kiss, letting his lower lip run along her chin and up her jaw towards her ears so he could hear the stifled moan she let out as he dipped his fingers into her. She did the same to herself, wishing for the digits to be thicker and rougher than her own. 

“Can you feel me, Nick Scratch?” Sabrina whispered to the empty room and the flames on the candles burned brighter, reaching a little higher. Behind her lids, Sabrina imagined his lips sealing to her collarbone and then again, lower, to her chest. She’d catch him peeking, a wicked glint in his eyes before he’d kiss her lower, craning his neck to lick the nipple that bobbed just above the water line. 

Her hands would sink into his inky hair, like pale snakes in a tall grass and she moaned as she imagined the hot tease of his tongue at her breast. She wanted so badly, more than she’d wanted anything in her life, to feel him and she felt she almost did. She could sense the heat of his skin against hers and the twitch of his muscles under the sneaky digits. She could feel him looking at her and the rush of trepidation, temptation and promise of pleasure all at once. 

Her fingers found her clit in the water and she gave a sharp gasp and arched her back as she worked herself with Nick’s touch sliding around her body. All the candles in the room went out at once. 

The delicate coloured bottles on her vanity shivered and then began vibrating. The glass clinked together louder as one of Helga’s cross stitches on the wall suddenly fell crooked. The curtains began to drift as if they were caught in a midsummer breeze and the floors creaked as a deep tremor shook from beneath the house. 

Sabrina suddenly sighed loudly and said, “Can you come to me, Nick?” 

Everything stopped as if in a sudden silence. In her mind, Nick raises his head and fixes her with a knowing smile before he leans forward, both his hands sliding up her chest to flatten themselves across her collarbones. He leans closer, his full lips chasing the ghost of their earlier kiss and stopping just short. He lifts his hooded gaze to hers. 

“He can’t Sabrina, he gave his life for you,” A deep, distorted and rumbling voice spilled from Nick’s lips and Sabrina’s eyes sprung open. 

Her scream was cut off as she was yanked violently under the water’s surface, one clawed white hand clamping to the white lip of the tub. She thrashed violently, like a fish being ripped from the ocean but her head remained forced under. 

The pressure on her collarbones from ghostly hands forced her down for real and she slashed and clawed at nothing. Her lungs burned violently and she couldn’t scream. Under the water, she could hear them plain as day, a thousand voices chanting, singing, mocking. 

_ Can you see me in Hell, Nicholas Scratch? _

_Nick._

_ Can you see me? _

_Nicholas._

_ Can you feel me, Nick Scratch? _

_Nick._

_Can you come to me? _

And over it all, the repeated and haunted rumble of deep, depthless laughter. As if the void of Hell itself was chuckling over her cute joke. 

Sabrina was losing, her struggles becoming feebler as her brain swam in the lack of air. She couldn’t get up, couldn’t sit up, was being pinned to the bottom of the porcelain tub. She fought back as best she could against her invisible, untouchable foe and instead flipped about in the water like a slippery eel. 

The bathroom door suddenly slammed open and Zelda Spellman rushed into the room, face pinched and white with fear. 

“Sabrina!” Zelda screamed and watched both her niece’s hands flailing and grabbing at something surely not there. There was no caster but there was definitely some sort of spell and Zelda was well versed in tethering and rebuke. Frantically, she muttered the spell to herself as she gathered her power and then slashed both her arms towards the floor in an inverted V. 

The right side of the bathtub exploded and a wave of porcelain and white bathwater washed over the floor. With it, Sabrina’s weak and pale body was thrown out of its fight. She coughed violently on the floor and gagged as Zelda flew to the chair that had a discarded terrycloth robe on it and returned to her side. 

“Sabrina! Sabrina! Lilith save us, what were you doing? Look at me – look!” Zelda said sharply, grabbing the girl’s confused and lolling face to look into dazed, dark eyes. The smell in the room spoke of deeper magic very few attempted. The faint burn of sulphur mingled its stink with the cloying smell of vanilla and warm wood. Sabrina slowly sat up and dug her fingers into the fabric of the robe Zelda draped around her as she looked around. 

“What - what happened?” She gasped as she leaned into Zelda, who clutched her desperately to her chest as she too checked the shadows and corners of the room. 

“Carnal magic, Sabrina, how could you even think that was safe? What in the Heaven were you doing? You could have brought back a demon,” Zelda admonished her lovingly, swiping the wet blond hairs out of her eyes. 

“Nothing. I – I...I just want him back,” Sabrina replied and broke into tears as she buried her face into Zelda’s neck. Her body shook with sobs and Zelda pursed her lips, stowing the fear-induced lecture and absently rocking the teenager comfortingly like she was a small child. They sat in two inches of water, Zelda’s smart black skirt and tights soaking up anything around them, clutching one another. The bathtub was a ruin, the entire right side of it blown out like a bomb had gone off. Water was dripping off the ceiling. 

Zelda sighed and sat back to check on her, finding her face closed and morose. 

“Come. We’ll get some warding tea and cookies into you and then we’ll deal with this mess,” She instructed as her instinct to protect almost overwhelmed her. She had to remain smart and impartial or she’d start condoning these reckless adventures in magic no one understood. She stood and assisted Sabrina up, who looked wonderingly around the bathroom as if seeing it for the first time. 

“Auntie...I didn’t cast a spell. I didn’t do anything,” Sabrina protested hollowly before looking at her earnestly and gesturing weakly to the destroyed room, “I didn’t do this.” 

Zelda gently cupped her cheek for a second before giving the room a terse once over again. Then she clucked her tongue and straightened her skirt. 

“Carnal magic can sometimes be evoked without realizing. It’s the rawest and most dangerous of magic and it runs deep in some species. Werewolves, demons, faeries. The more volatile of creatures, which,” Zelda eyed Sabrina sardonically, “_also_ includes powerful teenage witches, it seems.” 

Sabrina’s cheeks turned pink and Zelda inhaled sharply and gestured towards the door. 

“Come on, there’s more to discuss. Nothing to be ashamed of. It’s perfectly natural,” She announced and pushed Sabrina back towards her bedroom. They both left the room and Zelda paused momentarily as she turned to shut the door, sharp eyes giving the room a suspicious scan again and seeing nothing. 

The door to the bathroom was shut and the dreary afternoon light barely filtered in through the windows, casting weak twilight shadows over the rubble and puddles. The faint shadow of a man lingered in the mirror as if waiting. 

It started to fade and a faint voice of Nicholas Scratch whispered out into the room. 

_ I see you, Spellman. _

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not continuing this, to be honest. 
> 
> I'm not sure why I wrote this, just that it's been taking up a lot of real estate in my head that I need at the moment so here it is. Sorry if I wasn't spot on with the characterizations or magic lore, I've only watched both seasons once and did in fact make some shit up. (And yes, I'm aware the title is a DnD spell, I play cleric for my group SUE ME.) 
> 
> Please enjoy and as usual, you can always talk to me in the comments. :)


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